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They were in trouble. That much is obvious.
Kenma tries to battle the flurry of panic and fear welling up inside him as he stabs another lurker through the head. The undead collapses in a heap of rotting flesh, and Kenma runs his machete through another lurker before targeting its head. Kuroo was a few feet away from him, battling his own set of lurkers using the large knife he got from a sushi restaurant.
The number of lurkers keep on coming, and Kenma knows it’s a matter of time before he and Kuroo are overwhelmed by the hoard of zombies. He quickly scans his surroundings and notes that the only safe route was to go up the building using the staircase.
Survival.
Kenma will absolutely do everything to survive. He needs to. The thought of dying and leaving Kuroo is unacceptable, so unfathomable. He wants to overcome this godforsaken apocalypse and spend the rest of his life somewhere peaceful with his best friend.
Kenma just wants peace.
But when he sees a lurker stagger towards Kuroo, who was fending off two more in front of him, all thoughts of survival disappear.
His body lunges forward, the words Kuro, Kuro, Kuro ringing in his mind like a prayer chant. Not Kuro.
Kenma has lost so much, but he will not lose Kuroo.
With reflexes he long-gained from hours of practicing volleyball, Kenma leaps in front of the lurker and shoves it away. A groan from Kuroo draws Kenma’s attention for a split-second that he misses the lurker on the ground move.
Then, he feels it.
A bite on his leg, piercing the skin.
Kenma lets out a yell and he faintly hears a voice shout, “No!” before his instincts take over and he slices the lurker’s head in one swoop.
He kicks off the lurker away from his leg, and the comfort of familiar arms wrap themselves around his shoulder.
“Let’s go!”
Everything feels like a blur, Kenma thinks. His feet are moving, one foot after the other as they climb the stairs, his weight supported by his giant best friend. He feels an uncomfortable heat spread from his leg to the rest of his body, and he tries painfully to ignore what it means.
x
The wind howled with so much ferocity that Kuroo started to think it might be possible for the building they were in to collapse. It’s a ridiculous thought, of course, but at this point even the most unimaginable things can happen, Kuroo mused in bitter irony.
He moved away from the window, and his eyes rested on Kenma’s hunched form at the corner of the room, totally engrossed with the Rubik's cube Kuroo managed to snap up from an abandoned school a few days ago.
He walked over to Kenma’s side and tugged a lock of hair.
“Your hair is getting long.”
Kenma hummed.
“Want me to cut it for you?”
“I think about you and a pair of scissors together… and I shudder,” Kenma said slowly, eyes never straying as he twisted and turned the cube with quick fingers.
“You hurt me, Kenma,” Kuroo joked, laying a hand on his chest, mock-wounded.
Kenma spared him a side-eye. “When I think about cutting my hair, it feels like I’m giving up a part of me. A part of me that was from the past before this… craziness exploded onto our faces.” The confession weighed on the air like a dreary blanket. “I don’t want to let go yet.”
“You don’t have to.” In one smooth movement, Kuroo stood up and walked quickly over to where their bags were placed. He returned to Kenma’s side waving a cheap plastic comb and a rubber band. “I get it. Want me to braid it instead? It keeps covering your eyes. You’ll trip for sure.”
Kuroo took the slight curve on Kenma’s lips as a sign of approval.
The room was filled with quiet activity, a world away from the hell hole that was happening outside.
When the zombie outbreak happened, a state of panic ensued. No one knows where it started, but a live broadcast was made by the government one Saturday morning declaring the country in a state of emergency. Zombies, the prime minister said, or lurkers, feed on humans and one bite can turn a person into these flesh-eating monsters. He advised the general public to keep calm, but his telecast was cut off midway through.
Kuroo remembered gripping Kenma’s hand painfully hard, but not a word of complaint came from his best friend. They were both shivering.
It was safe to say that no one was calm.
It wasn’t long before almost everyone got infected. Kuroo’s father, his grandparents, and Kenma’s parents turned, their smiles wiped out by gruesome snarls permanently painted on their faces, and it was heart-wrenching to watch Kenma put them down with a knife.
Thanks to Kenma’s observation skills, they quickly learned how to kill the lurkers— a blow to the brain is more than enough— and came up with a general plan on how to survive this zombie hell.
Kuroo was just grateful Kenma was with him throughout the mess that followed.
He already lost so much. He’s not going to lose Kenma.
When he finally reached the end of the braid, Kuroo tied it with a rubber band and grabbed the other package he had with him. “Here. For being a good customer.”
Kenma dropped the cube on the ground in time for him to catch a small plastic package. “Apple chips?”
“Sadly, apple pies are kinda hard to find in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.” Kuroo shrugged.
Kenma snorted. “I would imagine.”
“Found this when I was scrounging around the convenience store earlier today. Store was nearly empty, but apparently not a lot of people are fans of apple chips.”
“People are still choosy? In this economy?”
They both laughed.
A little while later, the duo found themselves in front of the fire, with Kenma tucked under Kuroo’s chin as they both stared into the flames.
Kuroo asked, “You good?”
Cat-like eyes meet his gaze. “Yeah. Thanks, Kuro.”
And with those three words, Kenma settled in Kuroo’s arms and closed his eyes.
It took a while for Kuroo to sleep, heart full with gratitude despite the circumstances they were in.
The world can burn down to dust for all Kuroo cares. But this boy, the one beside him and had gone through the worst that life could offer, was here. For now, it’s more than enough.
x
“Why?” The word spills out of Kuroo’s lips, and Kenma hears it like an accusation.
The question doesn’t make sense to Kenma. “Do I need a reason?” Kenma huffs and rolls his eyes as if to say, Don’t be stupid. “Because it’s you.”
A sob escapes Kuroo, and he tries to muffle it by gripping Kenma’s hands and pressing it against his lips. His entire body trembles as he tries to repress his anger, his helplessness, and his sorrow. But the moment Kenma touches the shell of his ear, he surrenders to his grief.
He heaves and chokes on a sob, tears tracking down freely down his face. “I— I— I don’t… Kenma —”
And Kenma can’t help himself. Ignoring the burning pain on his leg, he sits up properly and fists Kuroo’s shirt. He pulls him closer, and Kuroo collapses against Kenma’s neck.
It takes a while before both of them calm down.
Kenma traces his fingers across Kuroo’s tear-stained cheeks. He presses a fleeting kiss on Kuroo’s cheek.
“Don’t look like that.”
“Don’t look like what?”
“Like it’s the end of the world.”
Kuroo’s fist is tightly clenched, the veins popping out. “Isn’t it?” He raises his gaze to meet Kenma’s and the younger man feels his heart constrict. Unshed tears are gathered, but anger and fear are reflected in them too.
Other than the time when Kuroo lost his father and grandparents, Kenma never saw Kuroo cry so much for another person.
“Dammit. You shouldn’t be comforting me.” Kuroo smoothes Kenma’s hair back, away from his face. “How do you feel?” He glances down at his leg. “Do you need anything?”
Kenma nuzzles back. “I just feel uncomfortable. Feverish. Can you just stay with me?”
“You don’t have to ask.”
“Thank you.”
x
Kenma noticed it first.
He stopped walking while they were halfway done on their first scavenging trip of the week. A sign made up of plank wood with words spray painted onto it was propped against the front of a store.
“Tohoku is… safe,” Kuroo read slowly, eyes widening at the message. “Sanctuary for all. Akita, Aomori, Fukushima, Iwate, Miyagi, and Yamagata. Barriers are erected.”
Something akin to excitement bloomed inside of him. They’ve been on the road for the past month, bodies bruised and aching, spirits low and jaded, and not a single sanctuary in sight. Because everywhere is practically infested with lurkers, it was hard to stay in one place in the city.
Though neither of them ever complained, both knew how tired the other was.
“What do you think?" Kuroo asked, eyes never straying from the sign.
Kuroo felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down at Kenma. “We should go,” he said in his usual quiet voice. “There’s really nothing left for us here. The city’s a haven for dead bodies and rotten food. Better not take our chances or we might get sick.” Kuroo wrinkled his nose at the thought.
“Tohoku, huh?”
“It makes sense. The news said that the zombie outbreak started in the cities. I heard prefectures in the north have successfully deflected them,” Kenma shared with a shrug.
“It will be a tough journey for sure.” But despite the challenge, Kuroo felt lighter than the previous weeks. Hope is really a dangerous thing, he thought.
“We just have to prepare for it,” Kenma said with determination. “Like I said, there’s nothing left for us here. Let’s move forward together, okay?”
Together. “Okay.”
That night, under the security of an empty apartment building, they planned their trip to the Tohoku region. There was excitement in the air, barely dampened by caution and the awareness of the state of the world.
It was just a tiny bud of hope, but it was alive nonetheless.
“Hey, let’s sleep already. We got a lot of things to do tomorrow,” Kuroo urged.
They settle on the bed, sheets tossed aside in response to the August’s humidity. Kuroo was already halfway asleep when Kenma spoke up
“Hey, Kuro?”
“Hmm?”
“Did you notice that the zombies… they don’t bite super hard, I think. The only reason why people get bitten is because they are overpowered by several zombies all at once. Sounds attract them so they are mostly drawn by the same thing.” Kenma yawned. “Having extra layers just might protect you from joining the land of the undead.”
“Where on earth do you learn these? And why are you thinking about this just before we sleep?”
“Observation. And no reason. It suddenly popped in my mind.” Kenma paused. “I think we should wrap cartons around our arms and tape them together. That’ll give us enough protection while we fight them off.”
“Even during a zombie apocalypse, you’re incredibly scary Kenma-kun.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not.”
“...Are too.”
“Ugh.”
“Well, I’ll surely be lost without you. So thanks for looking out for me.”
“...Shut up.”
“Stay with me, okay?”
“... fine. Somebody’s gotta save your ass.”
x
The building has an empty lot beside it.
A shovel with a broken handle lays abandoned on the ground, and Kuroo picks it up and starts to dig.
Kuroo tries to forget the memory of Kenma breathing his last, tries to remove the feeling of Kenma’s hand going limp in his. He tries to omit the memory of doing the final act of making sure Kenma doesn’t turn.
The sun beats against his back, relentless and unforgiving. His muscles strain as he continues to create a deeper and bigger hole, the earth underneath soft and moist as it caves away under the pressure of the shovel.
Kuroo doesn’t break down when he carries Kenma, who was wrapped in a white blanket, into his final resting place.
Kuroo doesn’t shed a tear when he covers his best friend with soil from the earth and places a lone white flower he picked up from the sidewalk.
Kuroo doesn’t cry when he grabs his backpack, Kenma’s flannel shirt and machete, and leaves the apartment. Leaves Kenma.
All Kuroo wants to do is forget.
x
When Kuroo met Sawamura, Yaku, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa, the four of them were fighting off a group of lurkers.
This was a difficult thing to do with two of their friends injured and unable to run, so Sawamura had no choice but to face them head on. Good thing Kuroo came in just in time with a machete of all things.
“Thanks for the help,” Sawamura shook his hand. “My name is Sawamura Daichi. And this is Yaku Morisuke, Oikawa Tooru, and Iwaizumi Hajime.” The other three tiredly waved their hands.
“Not a problem. Where are you guys headed off to?”
Yaku mentioned a nearby city, but Kuroo shook his head.
“Don’t go there. There are lurkers downtown. Herds of them.” Kuroo began to rummage in his backpack and tossed them each a bottle of water. They greedily drank the water and chimed their thanks. “Are you looking for sanctuary?”
“Yeah. We’ve been traveling by foot for months now. It’s getting… exhausting.” Sawamura replied with a grimace.
Yaku snorts and wipes the blood on his pants. “It’s a pain in the ass, you mean.”
Kuroo nodded. “Go north. Tohoku region is safe. I heard barriers are erected.” He opened his bag again and brought out a map. “Here. Take it. I’ve already marked the route you’re supposed to take. Avoid the city as much as possible. And wrap your arms with some thick cloth. It’ll be hot, but at least it prevents bites from those bastards.”
Iwaizumi looked dumbfounded. “How do you know this?”
“Me and… my friend. We planned to go there.” Kuroo looked away. “But that was before.”
Sawamura hesitated. “Is he…?”
“Try looking for other tools to kill these suckers with. Baseball bats are ok, but you need to attack the brain. More efficient.” Kuroo started to walk away.
“Hey, what about you?” Yaku asked, drawing Kuroo’s attention back.
“What about me?”
“What are you going to do?”
Kuroo paused. “I’m… not sure.”
“Tsk. He’s not sure. What’s your name?” Oikawa demanded.
“Kuroo.”
“Okay, Kuroo-chan, come with us.”
x
The Nintendo DS stares at him, taunting him.
Everything reminds him of his best friend, but this tiny electronic device sparks the most intense memories within him. Of summer days spent beside the riverbank, a ball bouncing between them. Of train rides from afternoon volleyball practice, exhaustion seeping into their bones. Of sleepovers spent in each other’s houses, their parents scolding them the next day for staying up until dawn.
A tightness wells up in his throat, followed by a painful stab right on his chest. Kuroo loathes these emotions and wishes he can burn the memories that caused these from his brain. He wants to forget.
Is forgetting Kenma even possible? Does he even want to?
Kuroo licks his lips and brings out his wallet from the pocket of his jacket. There is only one picture in his wallet, and that is a photo of Kenma. Kuroo took the photo the previous summer. Kenma was, as usual, playing his own DS, oblivious to the world and to Kuroo’s attention. They were hanging in Kuroo’s room for a change, and Kuroo was testing out the camera of his new phone. He loved this photo of Kenma because his eyes were bright and excited, an expression only few have the honor of seeing.
He printed it and placed it inside his wallet, ignoring Kenma’s groans.
Kuroo always feels hollow when he thinks about Kenma. He wonders how people survive losing a loved one, a best friend, the person who has captured their heart? It feels unbearable and Kuroo doesn’t want to feel this way.
He doesn’t want to think of Kenma because it hurts too much .
"Kuroo, are you there? Over." The crackle from the walkie talkie startles Kuroo out of his reverie, almost dropping his wallet in the process.
He places his wallet beside the DS and quickly brings the walkie talkie to his mouth. "Uh, yeah. I'm here. Over."
"Anything good?" comes Sawamura’s muffled voice through the speaker.
"Lots, actually. Need help to haul them all out."
"Okay. Be right there. Yaku will stay here, keep an eye on any lurkers around. Over."
“Roger that. Over.”
By the time Sawamura enters the store, Kuroo has dragged most of the supplies out. "Damn.” Sawamura lets out a whistle. “This is a goldmine."
Not even Kuroo could resist the smile spreading across his lips. Packaged ramen, biscuits, canned mackerel (Kuroo absolutely did not do a happy dance when he found them), canned fruits and vegetables, canned bread, and some sweets. Food that could last them for two weeks or more, along with several bottles of water.
“And fresh batteries? And medicine?” Sawamura is in awe. “And— wait, are those rubber shoes?”
“Oikawa has been complaining of sores the past week.” Kuroo grabs the box and places them inside the cart. “Can’t blame him. The soles of his shoes have been flapping about.”
A crackle comes from the walkie. "Sawamura? Got a hoard of lurkers passing by this store. Make sure to not make a sound. Over."
"Gotcha. Thanks, Yaku. Let me know once they clear out so we can head over to the van. Over."
As soon as he is done speaking, a cat darts from the back of the shelf and between Sawamura’s legs. A yelp escapes Sawamura and he moves backward and falls, knocking over a small shelf filled with cans.
A loud crash echoes through the empty store, startling the quietness of the night.
"Shit. I'm sorry."
"Come on, man. It wasn't your fault." Kuroo helps him on his feet and quickly loads the rest of the supplies into the cart. “But I think it’s time to go.” Adrenaline starts pumping into his system, and he feels the slow panic descend when Yaku contacts them back.
“What the heck was that? Are you guys okay?”
“Yeah, we’re good. A cat startled me and I accidentally knocked a shelf over.”
“Well, you better move ‘cause the lurkers heard you. The herd is heading to the store. Get out of there now. I’ll drive up once I see you, got it?”
“Got it.”
Sawamura and Kuroo move fast, piling the rest of the supplies in the cart and head over to the entrance. A van moves up to the entrance, and Yaku opens the door and begins helping them load the supplies.
“I don’t want to be feasted on so let’s get going,” Yaku says just as Kuroo passes him the last of the box of canned food. They all glance at the zombies approaching the entrance. They are still a few feet away, more than enough time to leave the store without casualties or much difficulty.
Sawamura scrambles inside the van, and Kuroo is about to follow suit when remembers something.
His wallet is back inside the store.
For a split second, Kuroo thinks this is the perfect excuse to get rid of Kenma’s picture. The perfect excuse to forget and not feel anything anymore. He is tired of the heart ache, of the avalanche of hurt he experiences every day when he thinks of Kenma.
He wants to forget.
Will he feel better after?
But the moment Kuroo steps in the van, something stops him. He turns around and starts running towards the entrance again, ignoring Yaku’s and Sawamura’s shouts.
"Hey! Kuroo, hey! Kuroo! Where are you going?"
"I forgot something. If there are too many lurkers, leave!"
Blood pumping, he runs through the store and reaches the aisle and spots his wallet. Relief courses through him, and he picks it up and shoves it into his jacket.
Does he really want to forget Kenma? All he wants is not to feel the pain anymore. To not feel empty. Remembering Kenma always brings these emotions.
When he reaches the entrance again, the van is gone and a crowd of lurkers is near the entrance. Being outside is better than being trapped inside the store, Kuroo decides, so he quickly stabs the head of a few lurkers in the parking lot before aiming to run towards the direction of the road.
However, three other zombies descend upon him and though he’s tall and built, Kuroo has a hard time making sure he doesn’t get bit. One lurker got close to the arm that was warding the second lurker off and bit it.
Before he can react, Kuroo hears an engine roar and the lurker in front of him falls. The other two are met with the same fate, and Kuroo looks up and meets the angry face of Sawamura.
“Get in!”
The van speeds away from the parking lot, and they are soon back on the main road.
“Did you get bit?” The question is curt, but Sawamura looks at him with worry.
Kuroo shakes his head. He brings his arm up to show a piece of carton wrapped around his arm with duct tape.
Sawamura exhales. Yaku remains quiet.
“So. What did you forget?”
Wordlessly, Kuroo takes out his wallet and shows it to Sawamura.
"Your wallet? You went back to get your wallet?" Incredulous anger colors his friend’s voice, and Kuroo can see how much Sawamura is holding back. Probably from beating him into a pulp, Kuroo thinks. He can’t blame him. “You almost got bit for a wallet?”
Yaku presses on the brake pedal and the van stops by the side of the road. He turns back and faces Kuroo, anger coloring his face. "Are you an idiot?" he growls. “What the hell is in that wallet that is worth your life? A check for a million yen? A magical cure that can get rid of this zombie infestation?”
Kuroo breathes. "This is all I have okay?" he says, voice low and quiet.
“All you have of what?”
"Of Kenma, okay?" He knows he is shouting, but Kuroo can’t help it. Tears start to blur his vision and he shamefully hangs his head. “I try. I really try to get up everyday and move. And I do. But it hurts so damn much each time I think of him.” Kuroo clutches his chest. “How? How can I live like this? I just want to forget. I was thinking it might be better to forget Kenma, but I thought about not recalling what Kenma’s face looks like, how his hair was, and I got scared. So I ran back.
He releases a choked sob. “I want to forget, but I don’t have the courage to.” Kuroo meets his friends' eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. “How do I forget?”
They let him cry for a few minutes. And just when Kuroo feels like he has no energy left, a warm hand grips his shoulder. “Are you feeling better?” Sawamura asks gently.
Kuroo nods. “Yeah. Thank you.” A pause. “I’m sorry about earlier. Thank you for waiting for me.”
“As if we could leave you. You’re our friend. We’ll never leave you behind.” Yaku starts the engine again. "Just don't be an idiot and forget it again, okay? Kenma wouldn't like that."
x
“Tell me about yourself, Kuroo-chan.”
Oikawa sat beside him and looked at him with expectant eyes. Kuroo ignored him and continued to clean his machete with a dirty rag.
“Oi, Shittykawa, stop it,” Iwaizumi warned. He was carrying a bunch of sticks in his arms. “Stop slacking and help Sawamura and Yaku get water from the river.”
Oikawa huffed. “You’re no fun, Iwa-chan,” he complained. But he stood up and walked to the direction of the river.
“I’m sorry about him,” Iwaizumi murmured, setting the sticks on the ground. “He means well. He just noticed you’ve been feeling down.”
“It’s nothing.”
Kuroo watched Iwaizumi try to strike a fire using two rocks. He dug inside his backpack and pulled out a box of matches. “I think this will be better.”
“You’re pretty well stocked,” Iwaizumi comments, gratefully taking the matches.
“Kenma prepared all these.”
There was something about the inflection in the other guy’s voice. Was it sadness? “I see. Sounds like a great guy.”
“He was.”
Iwaizumi paused. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” Kuroo stood up. “Oikawa told me earlier that you’re childhood friends. Treasure each other, okay?”
x
A tall wall looms in front of them.
Large wooden stakes are positioned around the wall, and some lurkers are caught in them. Men in police uniforms shout a few commands and they hear the gate in front of them open.
They finally arrived at Fukushima.
Sawamura hugs Yaku and claps each other’s backs enthusiastically, while Oikawa keeps shaking Iwaizumi in excitement and chanting We made it! We made it! Iwaizumi doesn’t even bat Oikawa away; he is smiling so brightly. A mass of emotions rock Kuroo, a mix of relief and sadness at war inside of him.
This is what he and Kenma planned. This was their goal.
And he isn’t here to see it.
His heart starts racing, and Kuroo feels like he cannot breathe. The soles of his feet feel like lead weight, sticking him to the ground. Why isn’t Kenma here? Kuroo wonders for what seems like a millionth time. He should be here. He got Kuroo here with the map he made and the life-saving tips he gave.
Why isn’t Kenma beside him?
The rest of the group greets the police men, but Yaku turns around when he notices Kuroo not moving an inch. Puzzled, Yaku frowns and gestures for him to come.
But Kuroo shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he answers sadly. “I can’t.”
And he turns around and runs.
Kuroo blocks out the sounds of his friends calling his name, and goes to the direction of the forest. He doesn’t go in deep, stopping when he finds a clearing. Kuroo collapses on his knees, tears streaming down his face.
“Why’d you have to be a protagonist, huh, Kenma?” Kuroo sobs angrily. He pulls out his wallet and jabs hard at Kenma’s photo. “This ain’t some video game, Kenma. It’s not like you have unlimited lives or a restart button to continue on once we’re dead. I— I— I don’t think I can do this without you. You’re so stupid. So so stupid. Why save me? This world would be way better with you in it. So why’d you have to play hero and die, huh?”
With shaking hands, he takes out Kenma’s photo from his wallet and presses it against his lips. “I love you so much. Why aren’t you here with me?” Another sob escapes him. “I miss you so much, Kenma.”
Kuroo’s gaze drops to the ground, eyes blurry with tears, but his attention is captured by a piece of paper peeking from where Kenma’s photo was. He doesn’t remember anything like that there.
Kuroo smoothes out the folded piece of paper, and his heart skips a beat when he realizes whose handwriting he is reading belongs to.
Dear Kuro,
I found a piece of paper and a pencil when you went to look for a blanket for me. Thank you for taking care of me, even in my final hours.
I just want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you, but know I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’d never willingly part from you. But life sucks sometimes and doesn’t choose to side with us.
As I was writing this, I thought of how you were always there for me. I can’t even seem to remember the time in my life when you weren’t beside me. Walking to and from school, eating ice cream on a hot summer day, watching volleyball games, celebrating each other’s birthdays… my life has always been with you.
I just want to say thank you. And that I love you. I wish I had more time to say that to you. Again and again until you get tired of it. But I’ll settle with this note.
It’s hard now, but please fight, Tetsurou. Fight to live. Someday, this madness will end, and I want you to see the sun rise again. Don’t give up. Always remember that there is good in this world. And you’re one of them. After all, you’ve brought so much joy in my life. At least now, you can say you have a guardian angel to look after you. And I will always be watching you, the same way you have been watching me all this time. Thank you for taking care of me, for loving me. I love you, the same way you love me, probably even more. But who’s counting?
Yours forever, Kenma
Kuroo’s chest heaves, stomach tensing as he tries his hardest to not let a sob escape. But the pressure mounts up, leading up to his throat before a choked sob escapes him. And just like a dam that has been destroyed, the flood comes and tears start pouring out.
“You— you idiot,” Kuroo chokes out, tears blinding his vision. He clutches the delicate piece of paper tightly, right there, above his heart. “I love you. I lo-love you so much.”
“Kuroo?”
Kuroo looks up and meets the worried-looking face of Oikawa. His face brightens up as relief spreads through him. “Kuroo-chan, why’d you run away?” Oikawa kneels beside him, hugging Kuroo tightly. “Everyone’s looking for you.”
“This was supposed to be our goal— Kenma’s and mine. We made plans to reach Fukushima together and just be happy. It’s unfair.” Oikawa’s navy blue shirt turns into black as Kuroo’s tears drench them. “How can I stay in Fukushima and not think of Kenma? How?” The single word comes out raspy, bewildered. “And he’s telling me to fight to live. How do I do this, Oikawa?”
“You do this one day at a time. One step at a time.” Oikawa gestures in the direction of the gate. “By living. Knowing how much Kenma-kun gave up just to make sure you live, I think that’s the best way, don’t you think?”
“I really wish he was here.”
“I do, too,” Oikawa says softly. “I really do. I’m so sorry for your loss, Kuroo-chan,” he says gently. “I can only imagine the pain you’re going through. But the people we lose aren’t truly lost the moment they pass away.” He taps Kuroo’s chest, right above his heart. “They live through us.”
“Will you come to Fukushima with us?”
When Oikawa leaves to tell the others where Kuroo was, Kuroo gathers his possessions and looks up at the sky. It is blue and bright, just like those summer days he spent with Kenma.
Kuroo exhales slowly. I don’t want to forget you, Kenma.
“You better look out for me, Kenma. You hear me? I still don’t know how to do this, but you have my back, right? Like all these years.”
I love you, Kuro.